


Have you been bleeding this whole time?

by Tails89



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A 'lil bit of angst is good for the soul, Derek makes bad health decisions, Hurt Derek, Hurt/Comfort, Scott is a Good Friend, because i love them so much, kinda sterek-y
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 17:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14774390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tails89/pseuds/Tails89
Summary: Ah, the great poisonous vs venomous debate. Best not to have it when a certain Sourwolf is doing his best impression of a dying person.





	Have you been bleeding this whole time?

“Wait, wait.” Stiles tugs on Derek’s shirt, pulling the werewolf bodily towards him. “Have you been bleeding this whole time!?” The cloth is wet beneath his fingers.

“’m fine,” Derek’s hand comes up in an aborted attempt to brush Stiles off. Fingers clamp around Stiles’s wrist when the werewolf staggers and drops, almost dragging the human down with him.

“Derek? Hey.” Stiles’s heart pounds in his chest when the werewolf’s eyes roll back in his head. “This is not fine,” he crouches, shaking Derek roughly to try and elicit some kind of response. “Scott!” The name comes out high pitched and panicked. “Scott! A little help in here would be nice!”

The older werewolf is a dead weight as Stiles tries to shift him to get at the sluggishly bleeding wound in his side. When he finally manages to drag the flimsy material of Derek’s shirt up and out of the way, Stiles gasps at the sight.

The cut is long and deep, with black lines already meandering away from the inflamed edges.

Pounding footsteps and a harsh “shit!” and Scott is kneeling beside Stiles on the hardwood floor.

“He just- he just dropped Scott.” Stiles manages to resist the compulsion to run a bloody hand through his hair, “I didn’t even know he was injured. Stupid, stubborn werewolf. There’s probably blood all over my Jeep!”

“Stiles,” Scott turns to place a hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “Take a breath.”

“He didn’t even say anything! It looks awful Scott. Why didn’t he say anything?”

“Stiles-“

“It looks like wolfsbane-“

“It’s not,” Scott manages to cut in. He examines the wound again. “I’m not sure… maybe something on their teeth. Like a poison?”

“Venom,” Stiles responds automatically, not even looking up from the great ugly wound in Derek’s side.

“Huh?”

Stiles finally glances up. “If you bite it and get sick, it’s poisonous.” He explains, voice still shaky. “If it bites you and you get sick. It’s venomous.”

“What if it bites you and it gets sick?”

Stiles just stares, then draws a steadying breath.

“Then you’re poisonous. Jesus, Scott pay attention.”

Scott looks at him thoughtfully. “What if it bites itself and you get sick?”

“That’s voodoo, and you’re totally fucking with me right now, aren’t you?”

“Got you to calm down,” Scott points out with a grin.

Stiles’ mouth drops open, hanging for one second. Two seconds. He closes it. “I… I hate you. So much right now, and Derek is still bleeding out on the floor.”

Scott takes another look. “The bleeding has just about stopped. Here hold this, I’m going to give Deaton a call.”

*

Derek groans and tries to roll away from the aching pressure in his side.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The voice is obnoxiously loud. “You need to lie still and give this gunk time to work.”

The room is mostly dark when Derek cracks open an eye. There’s a lamp casting a soft glow over on his left and Stiles swims into view above him. The long shadows emphasise the dark smudges under his eyes.

“What’s that smell?” The werewolf croaks, throat dry. A glass of water is held against his lips and he takes a few greedy gulps.

“Take it easy,” Stiles pulls the glass away, setting it on the coffee table. “That smell is the mixture Deaton put together to draw the poison out of the wound you decided to hide from me.”

Though his tone is harsh, his fingers are gentle as they rearrange the blanket covering Derek’s bare chest.

“Venom.” Even in his muzzy state, Derek can smell the remnants of fear and anxiety that linger over Stiles’ natural scent. A spike of something? Anger? No, it’s not quite as bitter as anger.

“Are you kidding me right now?” Stiles rocks back from his position on the edge of the table.

“If it bites you and y’get sick, ‘s venomous.”

Derek blearily watches Stiles’ face flit through a range of expressions before settling on incredulous.

“You almost died,” he accuses. “You are not allowed to discover sass on your death bed.”

“’m sorry,” Derek mumbles. He can feel the exhaustion dragging him back down and let’s his eyes drift shut.

“I know big guy.”

Derek can feel Stiles’ warm hand on his.

“Just don’t…don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

As Derek sinks deeper into sleep he thinks he feels the soft press of lips against his forehead.


End file.
